


Survival Skills

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related: Survival, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair has some serious healing to do after being shot by Quinn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival Skills

## Survival Skills

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Don't remind me. 

Notes: This is one of those stories that wouldn't mind me one bit and became the unruly pup in the litter. So, this is the result of the power play between writer and story. 

* * *

"What do you mean he's in surgery? What kind of surgery and how long's he been in there?" Jim Ellison barked the questions, panic the pressure behind the words. 

"I'm sorry, sir. That's all I can tell you. If you'll calm down and wait here, I'll get one of the doctors who admitted him." 

Simon Banks placed a reassuring hand on his detective's shoulder as the nurse walked away. "Settle down, Jim. The kid's okay. They're probably just fixing the gunshot wound. This isn't totally unexpected." 

"I know, but he was doing fine when they took him out of there. I guess I was just hoping they could skip this part." 

"Hell, I would've been happy if we could've skipped this whole damn thing." 

"I hear that." Jim rubbed the weariness that salted his eyes, his hand shaky from both fear and adrenaline. 

"Which one of you wanted to know about Mr. Sandburg?" 

Simon turned and spoke first. "We both did. I'm Captain Banks of the Cascade PD and this is Detective Jim Ellison, Mr. Sandburg's partner. How's he doing?" 

"Jim? You must be the one he kept calling for." 

The simple comment twisted the detective's gut with a guilty flinch. The young man's screams of terror as he flew away, calling out for Jim to get him down, played over in his mind. Twice he'd ignored Blair's horror at heights, and twice his partner had faced them. He didn't know if he could face his own fear of losing his best friend. 

"Is he all right? What exactly are you doing to him?" 

The older man directed them to sit before introducing himself. "I'm Dr. Martin. Your Mr. Sandburg came in a few hours ago with several problems. He had a mild concussion and a lot of bruises, but the main thing we had to deal with was shock from the gunshot wound to the upper right leg. Once we stabilized and gave him blood, we needed to do a vascular and orthopedic exploration to repair the actual damage, clean the wound, and remove any bone fragments that might have occurred. Apparently this was a large caliber bullet and it tore through a lot of tissue and chipped the bone. We won't know the extent of nerve damage, if any, until after some healing. He's in surgery right now so we can be sure that adequate blood flow is reestablished. We're also checking to make sure that the femur isn't too compromised by the bullet." 

"And if it is?" 

"Then we can repair it. The main thing right now is that we get proper blood flow and fight any infection. At any rate, as soon as he's out of surgery, he'll be in recovery and then in his own room. He's going to be here a few days." 

Years of practice allowed Jim to keep his voice even. "But he's going to be okay?" 

Dark brown eyes met his as the doctor nodded. "We've got every indication that he's doing as well as can be expected, detective. He's young and healthy and that's a major positive factor. For now we'll keep an eye on him until he's recovered and a little stronger. His body's been through quite a number of shocks over a short period of time." Shaking his head, he looked down at the chart in his lap. "Must have been one hell of a manhunt to do this much damage." 

Guilt once again raced wild and crazy through Jim's chest as he thought back to the beginning of the whole Quinn mess. He should've insisted more strongly that his best friend take a patrol car home instead of trailing along when he went in search of his kidnapped captain. Selfishness at wanting Blair to be with him almost lost him the one person he treasured most in life. Using both hands he scraped his palms against his whiskered cheeks, their rough edges like sandpaper tearing sentinel skin. 

At the far reaches of his hearing, Simon spoke. "It was an ordeal for all of us, doctor. Where should we wait until he's out of surgery?" The answer floated off and Jim barely acknowledged the hand at his elbow directing him to stand and follow. 

Once in the waiting room, he sagged down on one of the couches and dropped his head forward. A strong heat pushed against his shoulder. "Jim?" 

Struggling to focus, he turned to his Captain. "Simon, this is all my fault." 

"Come on, Jim. Don't start that. The doctor said he was going to do fine." 

"You don't understand. He should never have been there." 

"Hell, Jim, none of us should've been there. You want to blame anybody, blame that son of a bitch Quinn or that asshole Rooker who helped him." Appearing like magic, Simon held out a cup of black coffee. "Here, drink this. I'll send down for some sandwiches. We're both starved and exhausted." 

He sipped the dark brew, puckering his lips with a hiss at the bitter flavor. "I should've insisted he go home." 

"Forget about that. You know Sandburg. He probably would've followed anyway. Besides, once he sets his mind on something, he's as stubborn as you are. Hell, sometimes he's even worse." 

For the first time in hours, Jim smiled. "Yeah, you're right about that." 

"I know I am. Lord help us when that kid wants something. We're both outmatched when it comes to Sandburg." 

Nodding, Jim drank the rest of the coffee. Crushing the paper cup in his hand, he lowered his head once again, the pounding worse than before. He couldn't think straight. Words and pictures over the last 24 hours jumbled and fogged over. Blair's bruised face, twisted with panic, as he ran into Jim's arms snapped into sight. The heat from the shivering body pressed into his chest, a wave of intense need to hold him there stormed through his muscles. He desperately wanted to touch his best friend, to wrap him up so tightly that he'd never be cold again. 

A strong hand massaged across his shoulders. "Jim? Why don't you lean back and try to rest while we're waiting? You don't look so good yourself." 

"I'm okay, sir. It's just a headache. All I need is some aspirin. I'll be fine as soon as I can see Blair." 

"It could be hours." 

"I don't care. I have to see him as soon as they'll let me." 

"All right." Simon stood up before he continued. "Look, Jim, I need to make a few more calls. I'll be right back." 

"Don't worry. I'm not leaving." 

"No. I never thought you were." 

* * *

Hours later, sitting by the bedside, Jim gazed on his sleeping partner. The IV's and monitors dripped and beeped, tugging at his senses, but he focused instead on the natural heartbeat and breathing. Slow and steady, it drew him in, his own respiration matched to his guide's. Only as it increased did he realize that his friend's fingers twitched inside his palm. 

Leaning closer, his head braced low against the rail, he whispered through the slats. "Blair?" 

Eyelids blinked several times as blue eyes struggled to focus. A groan rather than words vibrated the young man's chest. A dry tongue and a hard swallow introduced one weak word. "Jim?" His voice scraped raspy like metal across brick. 

"I'm here, buddy." The older man squeezed the hand he held gently. "You're going to be fine. They just had to fix the leg, but they said everything's working great." 

"Oh, man." Another groan punctuated Blair's attempt to shift. 

"Don't do that, Chief. You just need to lie still for awhile. Give the leg a chance to settle down. It's swollen from the surgery." 

"Oh, god, Jim, it hurts." 

"I know. Just try to relax." 

"Throat hurts, too. Thirsty." Swallowing stretched unused muscles. 

"You can't have anything yet, Chief." He ripped open a packet of the moistened swabs. "Here. Let me rub this on your mouth. It'll help." Tracing the liquid across the dry lips, the young man ran his tongue along the edge. 

"Better?" 

"Yeah, man, a little. What happened?" 

Suddenly even more worried, Jim reached up and pushed back stubborn damp curls that stuck to the sweaty forehead. The oily richness against the flushed skin tingled his fingertips. "What do you remember last?" 

"Oh, man, the helicopter. God, man, I hate heights." Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath before he spoke again. "Simon okay?" 

"He's fine, Chief. He stayed here until just an hour ago and then I sent him home to Daryl." 

Turning his head only slightly, Blair stared with drug-cloudy eyes. "Man, you don't look so great yourself. You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Chief." Jim continued to pet the hair back away from his guide's sleepy face. 

"What time is it?" 

"It's late." 

"How late?" 

"It's 3 A.M. You were in surgery and recovery for awhile." 

Blair closed his eyes, his voice groggy and drifting. "I'm glad you're here, man. This whole deal is way scary." 

Raising the entwined hands to his chin, Jim listened closely as the sounds of breathing evened out. "I know, Chief. But you're safe now." 

"No more helicopters, man." 

Smiling, Jim shook his head. "No more helicopters." 

"No more jumping off fucking cliffs either." With each sentence Blair's words floated more dreamy between them. 

"No more cliffs, Chief." 

"Take me home, man." Only sentinel hearing could hear the last soft words. 

Sure of his partner's slumber, Jim kissed his friend's hand and replaced it by his side without releasing it. Stroking the top veins, each tendon, each thin layer of skin, he worshipped that hand. He shook his head, sudden clarity flashing a warning. "Damn, I'm in big trouble here." 

* * *

"Shit." The sharp exclamation brought Jim up from the fog, his sentinel senses on full alert. Blair's body fell back flat against the pillow. 

"Settle down there, Chief." 

"Like I could do anything else. Jesus, Jim. I didn't hurt this much when I first got shot. Now everything in my body hurts." 

"It's a delayed reaction. That's what adrenaline will do for you." 

"Adrenaline? Oh, yeah, that makes sense." Eyes shut, Blair twisted the sheet beside him with both hands, fighting the pulses of pain reflected in his haggard face. "I'm sorry to be such a wimp, but I can't believe it hurts this much." 

Standing by the bedside, Jim took in the overly pale and scrunched up features. "First of all, you're not a wimp, so don't start that. You got banged up pretty bad and then you got shot. You did great in spite of all that. Kept your head the whole time. Simon says we at least owe you dinner." 

"Dinner?" 

"Yeah, any place in mind?" 

"Let me think about it. Just the thought of food right now makes my stomach flip." Turning his head, Blair focused on his partner. "Jim, man, did you stay here all night?" 

Smiling down, Jim nodded. "Like I'd be anywhere else? You're my guide, Chief. No way I'm leaving you here by yourself. One of these nurses could end up being the next chapter in your diary." 

"What'd I tell you, man? No more diaries." A weak grin replaced the earlier frown. "No way am I making that mistake again." 

"Good. Now, I'll go get the doctor to come in and see if he can do something about the pain." 

Blair grabbed the nearby wrist before his friend could leave and then released it, almost embarrassed. His voice still hoarse, shook from the weight of difficult words. "Jim? You really think I did okay out there?" 

"Chief, you did great. Now, just lie still and we'll get you fixed up." 

"Wait a minute, man. I need to talk." Nervous energy twitched the arm muscles, the fingers constantly moving against the bedding. 

Jim studied the suddenly very serious features. "Yeah, Chief?" 

"Man, I was like really scared out there, Jim. I know you said you think I did okay, but we all could've been killed." 

"I know. It's not the first time, Chief." Jim watched as Blair averted his eyes, his heartbeat increasing. 

"But this time it was different." 

"How's that?" 

"All that violence. All that waste over money. It was only dumb luck that we weren't killed. I just don't understand it, man. You're a cop and you have to deal with this kind of thing all the time. How do you get used to it?" 

Leaning in, his elbows resting on the rail, Jim tilted his head enough to make eye contact with his friend. "You don't get used to it, Chief. The day I take people like Dawson Quinn in stride is the day I retire. But somebody has to keep fighting." 

"And that somebody has to be you, right?" 

"Well, I am the sentinel. It's what I do. The thing I regret most is that since you've hooked up with me, you've been exposed to some terrible dangers, seen things that no civilian should ever have to see. I'm really sorry about that." 

"It's not your fault, man. You don't make me stay." 

"I'd do anything to protect you, Blair. I hope you know that." 

Dark blue eyes reflected too brightly as Blair's cheeks flushed a deeper red. "I know you would, Jim. You did. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead right now and so would Simon. I owe you big time." 

Shaking his head, Jim reached out and pushed a stray curl behind his guide's ear, his palm lingering, almost caressing. "You've done the same. That's what partners do." 

The young man swallowed hard, gulping thick air. "Thanks, man." 

Bringing his hand back, his fingers brushed against the bearded cheek. The sudden hitch of Blair's breath surprised him. "Did I hurt you?" 

"No, man. I just didn't expect that." 

"I'm sorry." 

Blair took Jim's hand and laced their fingers together. "Don't be. It felt...um, kind of nice." He cleared his dry throat, the sound husky and rough. "I'm just glad we're both alive." 

Electric charges fired up through the sentinel's arm, releasing a flood of untamed flashes. He bit his lower lip to keep from zoning. "Jim?" 

"I'm okay. It's just you weren't the only one who got scared here, Chief. You almost left me. I don't know if I could've handled that." 

"I'm sorry, man." 

"Just don't do it again." 

"Hell, Jim. If it means anything, dodging bullets is my life now." 

"Sounds good, Chief. Only maybe we should just try walking first." 

Grunting just as he tried to shift an inch, Blair squeezed Jim's hand like a vice. "You walk, man. I think I'll work up to just lying still." 

"Now there's a challenge." 

* * *

"Man, this really sucks, Jim." 

"I know, Chief, but, you have to go, so use the urinal." Jim frowned as his partner's reluctance to take the container from his hand. His young guide now sat up in the bed, but he still needed the IV's and monitors. His frustration and a low grade fever colored his cheeks. 

"I'd rather try to get up. I mean, I have to get up some time. Might as well suffer for a good cause." 

"No way. You just got to raise the head of your bed, Blair, and you practically passed out. Besides," pointing at the machines around him, "you're wired for staying put. You don't get up until the doctor tells you to. Now, don't be so damn stubborn. Use the urinal." 

"Man, this has got to gross you out. I hate this." 

Sighing deeply, Jim stepped closer to the bed. "Listen, Chief. You're hurt and upset over being restricted. I understand that, but nothing about this grosses me out as you put it. It's a natural function." He nudged a shoulder playfully. "Hey, buddy, you want me to go first, show you how it's done?" 

Snorting, Blair smiled. "You just want to show off your cock, man." 

"What?" 

He jerked upright and blushed at Jim's puzzled expression. "Oh, man, these drugs are making me stupid. Forget I said that." Blair turned away, biting his lower lip. 

"It's okay, Chief. No harm done." Jim battled, fighting back the urge to continue the discussion, to find out what his friend really wanted to say. Honor stopped him. Blair on drugs made for an unfair advantage. Even so, the subject would be pursued later. Meanwhile, he turned his attention to the task at hand. 

"Chief, you don't need to be embarrassed, but I'll step outside until you're finished." 

"Thanks, man." The words barely made a whisper. 

Standing outside the door, Jim heard the rustle of sheets and the awkward shifting and groans. Simon's voice interrupted his sentinel surveillance. "Jim, what's going on? Is the doctor in with the kid?" 

Looking up he saw his captain staring at him with concern. "No, Blair's taking care of some personal business." 

Awareness brought on a nodding. "Oh. Well, then, did you want to get some coffee for a few minutes?" 

"No, I just wanted to give him some privacy." 

"I understand that. How's he doing?" Putting a hand out, Simon touched Jim's shoulder. "How are you doing might be a better question. Did you get any sleep at all?" 

"Actually I did." Jim stood up straighter and forced a smile. "I'm fine, Simon. Don't worry." Cocking his head, he knew Blair was finished. "Wait here a minute and then you can come in, okay?" 

"Sure." 

Walking back inside the room, Jim found Blair sitting there, his eyes shut, his face more flushed than before. "Chief, you all right?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." His face betrayed the lie as he held the urinal on his lap. He shrugged a confession. "I tried to put it on the table, but I couldn't reach it." 

"Here. I'll take care of it." He took the container to the restroom, emptied, rinsed it, and decided to leave it there. He washed his hands before returning to the room. Blair lay there quietly, still subdued, his breathing short, but regular. Just as he started to speak, Simon knocked and opened the door. 

"Hey, Sandburg, glad to see you're finally awake." 

A small smile broke through the solemn expression. "Yeah, just in time, too. You need to do me a favor, man." 

"What's that?" 

Blair glanced over at Jim. "I need you to make this guy go home and get some rest. He's not very good at taking care of himself, you know." 

Simon chuckled out loud. "Yeah, well, takes one, Kid. I think you're a matched set." 

"Blair, I'm not going, so don't even drag Simon into this." 

"Listen, Jim, I'm going to be here at least a few more days and we both know I'm going to be laid up for awhile once I'm released." 

Jim ground his teeth and twitched his jaw a few times before he finally snapped. "I know that, and I'm going to take care of you. You don't have to worry." 

"I'm not worried about that, but I know you, Jim. You're already exhausted. I'm fine here. Just go home and sleep for awhile. You can't be expected to go non-stop for days and then have to take care of me for god knows how long later." 

"Jim, Blair's right. Just go home for a few hours and sleep. I can stay here with him or I'll call one of the other guys if it'll make you feel better." 

Almost growling, Jim shook his head, angry. "I hate it when you two gang up on me like this. I'm fine." 

"Sure you are, Jim. Besides, now you know how I feel when you and Sandburg pull one of these stunts. It's not fair, but we are right. You need to go home and rest." 

"Is that an order?" 

"Does it need to be?" Simon stood by Blair's bed, his hands on his hips staring his detective down. 

Finally Jim lost the contest and looked away. He walked to the bedside and spoke directly to his partner. "I don't want to leave you, Chief. I know you think it's good for me to go home, but I'm afraid of what might happen if I'm gone." 

"Blessed Protector mode, Jim. I understand that." Blair's face softened for a moment. Neither man paid any attention to the odd expression growing on their captain's face as Jim took Blair's hand as he spoke. 

"Then understand this, Blair. If something were to happen to you while I was gone, I'd never forgive myself." 

"Nothing's going to happen, man. Just do me a favor and don't make yourself sick. Go home and rest." 

Taking a deep breath, finally giving in, Jim nodded. "Okay, but I'll be back." 

"I know that, Jim. You don't have to worry. Didn't you tell me one time that to be a good partner, you also have to look after yourself?" 

"Did I?" 

"Well, if you didn't, you should have. It sounds just like an Ellison house rule to me. Anyway, we take care of each other, right?" 

"Right, Chief. Okay." Jim glanced up, just as Simon crossed his arms, his face twisted with confusion. Fighting the urge to kiss Blair's hand, he released it instead and stood up straight. "Guess I'm out-numbered here. Simon, you stay with him and I'll get my jacket. I'll be back later tonight." 

Simon remained quiet as Jim grabbed his coat and searched for his keys. Holding up a finger to Blair, he said, "I'll be right back, Kid. I'm going to walk Jim out to the elevator." 

"Sure, man. No problem." 

Walking into the hallway, the captain took his detective's sleeve and whispered. "Okay, Jim, I think you should tell me what I just saw in there." 

Jim blue eyes met dark brown. "What do you think you saw?" 

"Nope, I asked you first." Simon's concern squinted his lids. "Jim?" 

"Yeah?" Jim stared right back, his jaw set and determined. 

"Lord. How much trouble are you in here?" 

"About as much as I can be, sir. Is that going to be a problem?" 

"Depends?" 

"On what?" 

"If I can ever get my jaw closed again." 

* * *

Back at the loft, Jim stumbled through the door, dropping his keys on the table and hanging his dirty jacket on the rack. He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator before sagging down on the couch. Every muscle in his body ached as he swallowed a long drink. He hadn't eaten and the liquid burned comfort into his belly. Thinking back to his discussion with Simon tightened more muscles. What the hell was he thinking anyway? He'd barely confessed his feelings about his partner to himself and already his captain knew before Blair did. What a mess. 

Drinking the rest of the beer in a long pull, he got up and wandered into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he let the hot water steam the room as he stripped down. The mirror reflected a plague of bruises all along his torso, arms and legs, a collection both from his fall into the river and his fight with Quinn. Ignoring the tug of pain, he stepped under the heated massage of the forceful stream and started lathering up, using Blair's soap. He needed to wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. 

Every stroke along his body delivered relief, loosened the terrible tightness holding him together. The slippery cloth rubbed its nubby textures against the hardening cock as his arousal grew with expert touches. The smell of his partner grew stronger as he squeezed his eyes shut, bringing up the visions of that neck, those dark curls, those teal blue eyes. He wanted to bury himself forever, wrapped close to that furry chest, each hair a connection to sentinel lust. He circled his tongue against his own lips, sensing the puffy richness of Blair's, tasting the rich almond-like flavor of his herbal teas that drifted up from his skin. 

In his mind he imagined Blair's unmarred body, compact and hard, now leaning back into his. Breathing deeply, he groaned as he stroked himself harder, urging his erection into the fist substituting for the tight ass he wanted so desperately to enter. Thrusting faster and faster his heavy balls pulled up with a tension webbing throughout his whole belly. 

Love. He needed to make love to his guide's body. He wanted it. He wanted Blair. 

Thighs shook and trembled as he strained and pushed harder into his own hand, paralysis gripping his every breath. Blinded by star bursts and deafened by roars, he grunted, falling against the tiles. Only his left hand balanced him to avoid damage against the hard wall as spasms locked him into a brilliant flash of bright red that blocked all else. Scorching liquid coated his hand, but rinsed away as the shower washed and destroyed the evidence of his secret sex. 

Finally able to move again, he groaned and sank down under the water, squatting in the shower. The cooler temperature of the water doused his spiky hair as colder air teased his body. Holding both hands up, covering his shameful face, Jim muttered to himself. "Shit. I am so totally fucked here." 

* * *

"So, Chief, I hear you've been tooling around the nurses' station as soon as my back was turned." 

Blair looked over from the hospital bed, his face layers of grey and shadows. Sunken eyes drooped and had a hard time focusing. He also now had an oxygen tube under his nose. "Yeah, man. Hurt like hell, but I did it." 

"Sorry I missed that." Jim clamped down a jaw as he thought about the agony such an effort must have caused. 

"No, you don't. You would've probably ripped someone's head off at the first scream. They're used to that around here. Didn't pay me the least bit of attention." 

"And that's a good thing? What the hell are you talking about?" 

"See there. You're pissed and you weren't even here for the good part." 

"Good part? Chief, make sense." 

Blair closed his eyes and breathed a little harder, his lungs struggling more than they should've been. "I can't yell when you're around, man, so yeah, it's a good thing to be on my own sometimes. Besides I know how you hate to see a grown man cry." 

"God, Chief." The anguish echoed in his words and Blair glanced up. 

"It's okay, Jim. Seriously, he gave me some Demerol and it's a lot better now. It's just going to take awhile, that's all. But so far there's no infection in the leg." Blair averted his eyes before he said the last sentence. 

"What's going on, Chief? What aren't you telling me?" Jim reached out and touched his shoulder. 

"Nothing. Really." 

"Chief? You're breathing like you just ran a marathon and now you're on oxygen. What gives?" 

"It's just that after all that cold river water and surgery, my lungs are being pissy." He held up his left arm with the IV still attached and shook it slightly. "The doctor said the antibiotics should take care of it though." 

"But you're okay?" 

"Yeah, but I'm going to be stuck here longer than he first thought. God, I hate this being an invalid shit." 

Jim pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down as he watched his friend's sad face sag from disappointment. "I'm sorry, Chief. I know you wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, but considering what could've happened, I'm just grateful you're around to be bitchy." 

His head snapped up in surprise. "You calling me bitchy, man?" 

"I just meant that it's okay to complain. You've got good reason." 

"Damn straight." Blair pulled his hand away and crossed his arms around his chest, the IV tube dangling. His lower lip reddened, trapped between tight teeth. 

"I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean to upset you." 

Shaking his head, his shoulders slumped, Blair squeezed his eyes shut. "It's not you, man. I'm just tired. This whole thing sucks is all. It's nobody's fault." 

Jim sat quietly, watching his friend and monitoring his steady vitals. After a few moments, his guide's voice started again. "At least one of us looks a lot better. Guess the rest helped, huh?" 

"Yeah, it did." 

Reaching out a tentative hand, Blair eased his fingers over the back of Jim's. "Have any interesting dreams, man?" 

His face blushing slightly at the memory of his shower, he nodded. "Yeah, I did, actually. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime when you're old enough, but right now, you need to sleep." 

"God, you're such an awful tease, and damn bossy, too. Come on, man, tell me." Scooting down carefully, Blair repositioned himself to be more comfortable and to see his partner's face more clearly through the slats in the bed rail. 

"No way, Chief. Besides, if I tell you mine, you're going to have to tell me yours. Frankly, I don't know if I'm ready for a trip to the Sandburg zone yet." 

Speaking softly, his voice uneven, Blair whispered, "All I dream about is falling." 

"Falling?" 

"Yeah, you know. That whole sinking sensation you get in the pit of your stomach when you know you're completely out of control until you go splat?" 

Jim grimaced, groaning in sympathy, the skin around his eyes wrinkled up. "That sounds pretty shitty, Chief." 

"It is. I'd rather hear about your dreams." 

"Maybe later. Right now, I don't think you're up to it." 

Moving his hand lazily across Jim's, Blair's voice sounded drowsy. "Oh, I don't know. You might be surprised. Ever since this whole thing happened, I've been thinking." 

"Uh oh, I thought you were through with danger." 

"Not as long as I'm with you, Jim. Danger's just part of the package. But, that's not what I was talking about." 

"You're losing me here, Chief. What are you talking about?" The gentle touches across his skin zoomed up through Jim's wrist to his forearm to his shoulder and then took a quick nose-dive to his groin. Grateful to be sitting down and out of direct line of his guide's fuzzy sight, he tried not to zone on the lovely sensation of Blair's tender fingertips. 

"I don't know, man. It just feels different between us somehow." He rested his hand and breathed slowly, his eyes closed. 

His own breath grew stubborn. "Different how, Chief?" 

His voice pushed the words out in slow motion. "I don't know. When we touch, it feels, I don't know, like it means more than friendship." 

"How do you feel about that, Blair? Would it bother you if it meant more." 

"Depends." The young grad student opened his eyes, the strain of focusing pulling the muscles of his face taut against the cheek bones. 

"On what?" 

"Jim, I'm in no shape to do any dancing here. I think we've both got a pretty good idea that somewhere along the line things changed between us. Now, please stop me if I'm about to jump off a another cliff." 

The begging of the eyes cut to his soul. "There's no cliff, Chief. We're just both still coming down from what happened, that's all. It's hard to unwind sometimes when you come so close to dying. I've seen it before after combat. You feel a connection stronger than anything you've ever had." 

"Yeah? Just a bonding experience, huh?" Blair looked away, his face turned toward the darkness that mirrored the window, Jim's face reflecting back. "Maybe. Maybe it's the sentinel and guide thing, too. I just know I've never felt anything quite like it. I don't know whether to be scared or what." 

Taking the hand so near his own, Jim leaned as close as he could. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Chief. Now, why don't you go to sleep? You'll feel a lot better in the morning." 

"Okay, man. I'm just so tired of falling every time I close my eyes lately." 

"Then don't. Try thinking of something else, something that makes you happy." 

"Okay." After a few minutes, a small smile played across full lips. 

"What? What are you thinking about, Chief?" 

"You. I was just thinking about you standing around burning all those letters from your girlfriends like you said you did." 

"And that makes you happy?" 

"Yeah, but you have to remember I'm on drugs, man." The smile got a little bigger. 

"Now what?" 

"I was wondering if you've burned Carolyn's stuff yet. I bet myself you have. Am I right?" 

"You're such a smartass, Chief. Go to sleep." 

"I knew I was right." A long pause brought on more even breathing before Blair finally said, "'Night, Jim". 

"Good night, Chief." 

Reaching up, the older man clicked off the overhead light and sagged back in his chair, ready to sit vigil. Jim watched as his best friend drifted off, his face grown slack in the dim light of the room. With the slightest of whispers he asked, "God, Blair, when did I become such a fucking coward?" 

* * *

"I can't believe I'm still so tired." Blair shifted restlessly in the bed, his face broadcasting his discomfort 

"Well, considering you didn't get to sleep more than a few hours at a time all night, I'm not surprised. They kept waking you up to take your temperature, which I might add is higher than yesterday." 

"Like that's my fault?" Blair rubbed down the edge of the sheet, his mood dark and grumpy. 

"I didn't say it was, Chief. I was just making an observation. I'm a cop. We do that." 

"I'm sorry, man. Didn't mean to snap." 

"It's okay." Jim stood by the window, his arms across his chest. Fatigue weighed his own muscles as he watched his friend lay back against the pillow. Just as he started to speak, a young lady entered the room with a lab tray. 

"Morning, Mr. Sandburg. I'm afraid I'm going to need some fresh samples." Blair's groan didn't go unnoticed as she smiled. "Promise to get it first jab this time. Honest." 

"Guess practice makes perfect." Pushing back strands of stubborn hair, Blair pulled his right arm from under the blanket. "I'm sure there's a good vein there somewhere." 

"Sure. Plenty." As she wrapped the rubber tubing around his upper arm, another woman entered. 

"Mr. Sandburg? Oh, I see you're busy. As soon as Lisa's done, we need to do your morning respiratory therapy." 

Jim saw the weariness cloud over the already dazed eyes. "Jim, looks like I'm going to be busy for a few minutes. Why don't you go get some coffee and breakfast and come back later?" 

"It's okay, Chief. I don't mind being here." 

"Jim, man, just go have breakfast, okay? Come back when they're finished." The pleading eyes convinced him of his friend's need for some privacy. 

"Okay, Chief. I'll be in the cafeteria and then I'll be back." 

"Thanks, man." 

Heading down the hallway, he met Simon. "Hey, Jim. How's the kid?" 

"Pretty miserable." 

"Yeah? Well, I hate to tell you, but you don't look much better." Moving to walk along beside his friend, Simon asked, "We going for coffee?" 

"Yeah. Blair doesn't like for me to see him like this. He basically threw my ass out." 

"Hovering again?" 

"No, just there. He's got pneumonia." 

"What? Shit. Since when?" 

"Probably since he jumped in the fucking river and sucked about half of it in his lungs because I was too stupid to think of another way out." 

Simon stopped walking and put out a restraining hand. "Jim, just stop that. We've had this discussion before. This is not your fault. Now, come on. We need to talk about something more important than your guilt complex." 

Hesitating, and then giving in, Jim nodded. "Well, I see your jaw's finally off the floor, so I figure I can guess what it's about." 

"Let's get a table, Jim. I need to sit down before we start this." 

After they both went through the line and got coffee and some Danish, they sat opposite one another. Jim remained quiet, his mind on full alert. 

"Jim, this thing with Sandburg, have you spoken to him about it?" 

"Simon, I shouldn't have said anything to you about it." 

"Technically you didn't, not in so many words, but I'm not really worried about that. My concern is your reaction to your own feelings." 

Wiping his fingers and swallowing down his coffee, Jim shook his head. "I know. It sort of took me by surprise. I was just standing there and all of a sudden I realized I wasn't feeling like just a friend anymore." 

"Jim, he is your partner and he almost died. Did you consider that? Maybe what you're feeling isn't what you think." 

The detective looked up and met the intensity of the dark eyes that studied him. "I've had partners before, Simon. Even lost them. I've never felt like this." Leaning in, arms clasped together on the table, he whispered. "Man, I have to tell you, it scares the shit out of me, Simon. Do you have any idea what this could mean to both of us?" 

"First of all, let's not go looking for more trouble. Let's start from the beginning. What did he say when you told him?" 

Jim leaned back, crossed his arms, and shook his head while he remained silent. 

"Well, shit, Jim. Please don't tell me you haven't even told him." 

"What would be the point? He's got a new girl every other day. I tell him something like this and I'm not sure how he'll react." 

"Aren't you? Come on, Jim. You have to say something. Besides, the kid loves you, too." 

"I'm his best friend, sure. I'm his fucking hero, Simon. His dissertation in real life. Doesn't mean more than that." 

Simon rubbed his hand over his mouth, the frustration mounting. Finally he leaned forward. "Jim, listen. You're too close to this, so maybe you can't see it like I can, but I think there's more than just hero worship and academic pursuits going on when it comes to Blair's feelings for you. You don't see how he looks at you." 

"What are you talking about, Simon? Has he said something to you?" 

"No, but until yesterday I never worried about it because I just knew it was a one-sided deal, maybe a crush, but now, it's different. I haven't seen you look at him like that before, and I sure as hell would never have expected you to admit it." 

"Surprised the shit out of me, too, sir." Jim scooted his chair closer, talking in a low tone. "Simon, do you really think he feels that way?" 

"Yeah, Jim, I do. Hasn't he hinted at it at all?" 

"Well, last night we danced around it, but I told him it was just the aftereffect of all the drama we'd been through." 

"Stupid, Jim." 

"Yeah, well, more cowardly than stupid. Simon, this kind of shit scares me. You and I both know my history with women and Sandburg's is worse than mine. Add to that we're both guys. I've never in my life even thought about being with another man, and now, all of a sudden, I'm fantasizing like crazy." 

"Fantasizing? Like with sex?" Simon's face remained fairly calm, but the nervous blinking gave him away. 

"Yeah, like with sex. Does that surprise you?" 

"Well, hell, yeah, but not because the kid's not attractive." 

Holding up a hand in confusion. "Wait a minute, Simon. Did you just say you thought Blair was attractive?" 

"Hell, Jim, I'm straight, not blind. Yeah, he's cute, but that's not the point I'm trying to make here. Now, shut up and listen." The gruff irritation in the voice boomed between them. 

"Okay, so what's your point then?" 

"My point, JIM, is that I never expected to hear Jim Ellison tell me about anything in regard to his sex life with anybody. The fact that you even mention it means this thing must be pretty serious. How serious?" 

"As serious as anything I've ever felt." 

"No kidding?" 

"No kidding." Jim's tight features twisted as if he sat waiting for the dentist. 

Simon sat back, sucking in his cheeks, thinking through the problem. "Okay, okay. It's not that bad, really. You're a police officer, Jim. You're used to tough situations. You'll figure something out." Looking around before he leaned back in to speak, he asked, "So, what are you going to do?" 

"I don't know." Jim drank some more of his bitter coffee, his expression grim. 

"Well, whatever you decide, I'm behind you. I hope it works out." 

"I appreciate that, Simon. The thing is, I'm not really sure how I want it to work out." 

"Sure you are, Jim. You're just scared. Anybody with any sense would be." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah, being in love with Sandburg would scare anybody." 

* * *

"Hey, there, Sleeping Beauty, finally decide to wake up again?" Jim sat by the bedside as Blair stretched his left leg and straightened out his crooked torso. Several blinks later, the young man's eyes focused on his partner. 

"What time is it?" The voice, husky with sleep, sounded stronger and less raspy. 

"After seven. Your fever's gone by the way. Medicine must be working." 

"Yeah? Speaking of work, why aren't you at the station?" Blair pressed the button to raise the head of the bed while he talked. 

"You complaining about the company?" Jim stood up and repositioned his friend's pillow as the young man struggled with sitting up. 

"No, just wondering. You're bound to have statements to fill out about Quinn and what happened. With the FBI involved I'm surprised I haven't been bombarded with papers myself." 

"I can fill those out later. It's not like Quinn's going anywhere too soon. The big toss up will be which Federal prison gets top dibs." 

"Speaking of the FBI, has Mara called? We were supposed to go out Saturday." Motioning toward his leg, Blair shook his head. "Don't think I'm going to make it." 

A fist gripped his heart as he listened to the regret in his friend's voice. "No, she hasn't, but she's in charge of Quinn, so she'll probably check in eventually. Want to call her?" 

"No, not yet. Maybe later." Licking his dry lips, he glanced over at the pitcher by the bed. "Could you hand me a drink?" 

"Sure, Chief." Jim poured some more water into the glass and bent the straw. "Here. The ice is almost melted. Is it cold enough?" 

"It's fine. Thanks, man." After drinking some more, he placed the glass on the tray nearest his bed. Blair settled back and checked out his friend's tired face. "Jim, you really don't have to hang around all the time, you know. Watching me sleep can't be much fun." 

Snorting to himself, Jim leaned against the bed rail. "You'd be surprised, Chief. You'll really kind of cute when you sleep." 

"Cute? 

"Yeah, you know, not hard to look at. You're real quiet, too. It's kind of peaceful." 

Confusion wrinkled up the younger man's brow. "Jim, man, what's going on here? You've never called me cute before." 

"I'm sorry, Chief. Does it bother you?" 

Slowly and very carefully, Blair eased his hand closer to Jim's as if approaching a skittish, untamed cub. "Jim, it doesn't bother me at all, but I have to tell you that you've been acting really different since this whole thing happened. It's like I'm getting two sets of signals." 

Swallowing hard, squeezing Blair's testing hand gently, Jim shrugged. "I suppose that's because you are." 

"Want to tell me about it?" Blair turned his head toward Jim, his eyes fully focused and clear. 

"I don't want to lose you, Chief." 

"Why would you lose me?" 

"Because what I'm about to say might surprise you. I know it sure as hell surprised me." 

Blair shook his head slightly, the dark curls twisting on the pillow. "I'd rather be surprised than totally baffled. Just tell me what's happening with you. You're scaring me here." 

Taking a deep breath to steel himself against his own fear, Jim spoke as evenly as he could. "Ever since I almost lost you, I've been having feelings that I hadn't really thought about before." 

"What kind of feelings?" 

"Romantic feelings." Jim glanced away, but held onto the hand like a lifeline. 

"Romantic? Romantic as in love, Jim?" 

"Yeah, Blair. Romantic." 

"Jim, I want you to look at me, okay?" 

Turning his eyes back to lock with his partner's, Jim found his best friend staring at him while wearing the most serious of smiles. "You don't mind?" 

"Mind? Why the hell would I mind? Jesus, Jim, we're both so stupid sometimes, it's a wonder either one of us survives." Blair brought Jim's hand to his lips and kissed it. The unshaved whiskers around his mouth scraped and burned his skin with a delicious kind of fire. 

"Chief? How long?" 

"I don't know. Guess I'll have to check my diaries." 

Laughing out loud, Jim shook his head. "Are you saying you wrote about me in your diaries, the one's you had Angie read?" 

"Why the hell do you think she got mad? She tried to tell me that she didn't want to play second. At the time I played it off and pretended like I didn't know what the hell she was talking about." 

"But you did?" 

"Yeah, I've always known how I felt, but since I thought there was no chance in hell of Jim Ellison ever caving in, I'd just have to write about it instead." 

Jim cupped Blair's cheek in the palm of his left hand, rubbing his thumb tenderly over the bruise. "What about all the women?" 

"What about them? Jim, I like women, but, man, I love you." He nuzzled his face harder into his partner's hand. "God, how I've wanted to tell you, but why the change now?" 

"I'm not sure. I think it has to do with almost losing you. I mean, I sat here thinking about what it'd be like if something happened, and I swear I couldn't imagine my life without you in it." 

"Same here, Jim. I thought something was going on yesterday. I even tried to get you to talk about it. Why were you so afraid to tell me?" Clear blue eyes watched him, saw into his very soul. "Is it because we're both men?" 

"Partly." 

"Only partly? Be honest, Jim." 

"Well, yeah, it's a big part, I'll admit it. We don't work in a very open environment, Blair. There are going to be problems." 

"Yeah, probably. But if we're together and we want it, don't you think it'll be worth it?" 

"I do, but that's not my only reason for holding back." 

Blair tilted his head on the pillow, still staring up, still holding on to his partner's hand. "What? Why are you so afraid?" 

"I'm terrible with relationships, Blair. I was a terrible husband and I'm not good at emotional stuff. I shut down and shut people out." 

Rubbing a hand up Jim's arm, the guide shook his head. "You seem to be doing fine at sharing right now. What's the rest of it? Are you afraid of me?" 

"A little. I mean, let's face it, Chief. Commitment is like a dirty word in the Sandburg vocabulary. You haven't gone with anyone for very long since I've known you. You're always on the make." 

"And that scares you?" 

"Shitless. If I go into this, I want it to last forever. I'm not a casual kind of guy. I need to know that if we do this, that you want it to last, too." 

Gulping loudly, Blair struggled to say the word. "Forever?" 

"Yeah, Blair, forever. Think you can handle something like that? If not, I have to know that now, because I'm not playing around here." 

"Shit, Jim. You are like so intense, man." Blair coughed a few times as he shifted to move higher up in the bed while still holding onto Jim. Once he resettled, his face flushed, he settled back. 

"You okay, Chief?" 

"I'm great. I just need to tell you that I can't promise this thing between us will last forever because I've never been in this position before." 

"So this is it then." Jim started to pull away and found himself yanked suddenly forward, the bed rail catching across his stomach. 

"No, Jim, what I'm trying to say is, I love you and I want this as much as you do." 

"Really?" 

"Really, but the only promise I can make is that I'll try as hard as I can." The light touch of Blair's hand to his face warmed him and he found himself smiling the goofiest of grins. 

"That's great, Chief." 

"So, now what, Jim? I feel like we ought to celebrate or something, but frankly all I can think about is falling asleep again. Is that not pitiful?" 

"No, because the sooner you get rested and well, the sooner I can take you home." 

"Home, like in our home? Man, Jim, this feels so strange, and yet, so right." 

"Yeah, it does, but I kind of like it. I mean, it's not like we're not used to strange. The sentinel and guide thing should be good training for that." 

"Yeah, you'd think so, but, you know what?" 

"What?" 

"I have a feeling, it's going to get a lot stranger." 

"Why's that?" 

"Because we haven't even talked about the sex part yet." Blair reached a hand out and gave Jim a quick belly pat heading south. 

"Chief, you're in the hospital for christsakes." Jim held the wanton hand steady and pulled it back up to his waist, holding it there for his own safety. 

"Yeah, but you're not." The impish grin suddenly turned wicked. "Hey, Jim, want to tell me about your dreams now?" 

"You're a rascal, Chief. When you finally do get out of here, I have a feeling that's going to work in my favor." 

"You bet, Jim. I'm just full of favors, not to mention surprises." 

"Surprises are good. I can do surprises." 

* * *

"Use the crutches, Chief." Jim stood with his arms crossed, his face the definition of stern. 

"Use the crutches, Chief." Blair wobbled his head as he mimicked his friend's orders. "Jesus, Jim, would you lighten up. You're worse than one of the nurses. I hate when you boss me around all the time." 

"Well, if you wouldn't be such a brat, I wouldn't have to keep reminding you that the doctor said you were not supposed to walk at all without crutches for at least four weeks." 

"I'm just moving from the table to the couch." 

"At all, Chief. That means, use the fucking crutches." 

"Damn it, would you just stop?" Blair sat back down in the chair, the frown the main feature of his face. 

"Stop what? Blair, I just don't understand why you seem to go out of your way to do exactly what the doctor told you not to do. Why is that? Do you want to end up going back to the hospital?" 

Stubbornly, the young man remained quiet as he grabbed the crutches and made his way awkwardly to the couch. Once there, he shifted back against the arm rest, elevating his leg, and staring out the window. 

After a few more moments, Jim settled at the other end, careful not to disturb the leg. "You want to tell me what's bugging you?" 

"What's bugging me?" 

"Yeah. You've been acting pissed off ever since you came home for the hospital this morning. What's going on?" 

Shaking his head, Blair bowed his head as he spoke. "This isn't like how I imagined it, Jim." 

"Imagined what?" 

"Us. Together. I still feel like shit and you're still bossing me around. Nothing's changed much." 

The words cut close and Jim rubbed his chest as air thickened in his lungs. "But it has changed, Chief. We've changed everything by admitting that we love each other. What did you expect to happen after we did that? Did you expect roses and candles? Romantic dinners? What?" 

Blair refused to look up as he tugged the blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around him. "I don't know what I expected. I'm being stupid. I certainly didn't expect romance. That's not what I meant. Hell, I don't know what I meant. Just forget it." He pulled the red cover up around his neck and closed his eyes. 

"I don't want to forget it, Blair. I love you. Hell, I know I was reluctant at first to admit that, but now that I have, there's no backing away from it. Is that what you want? To forget it ever happened?" 

"No." The voice made a trembling sound. "I do love you. I just don't know if I'm ready for the everyday part of that. You said it yourself. I'm real shitty at relationships." 

"No, I believe I said that about me. You, I said, were afraid of commitment." 

"It's not really the commitment, Jim." 

The older man shifted to kneel beside the couch, his hand resting on Blair's arm. "Then what is it? What's going on?" 

"I'm afraid you're going to get too pissed to put up with me and then what? It's the everyday stuff that kills the love, Jim. I've seen it too many times." 

"Seen it when? What the hell are you talking about?" When Blair kept his head down and his eyes closed, Jim nudged him before trying to arrange his body behind his partner's. "Come on, Chief, move up. I want to hold you and I don't want to hurt your leg." 

"Hold me?" 

"Yeah, is that okay? I think we should try it while we're talking this stuff out." 

"You been watching Oprah again?" 

"Just move up, smartass." 

Using his hand, he eased his leg up and scooted around so Jim could fit against his rear like a big cushion. Settling back with a slight wiggle between the older man's legs, the blanket still around him, he moaned. "This might not be fair, man. It feels so good, I might fall asleep before we figure anything out." 

Wrapping his arms around his guide, Jim rested his head on Blair's brown curls. "We've got plenty of time. You feel like dozing off, go for it. In the meantime, answer the question." 

"What question?" The words, indeed, sounded more drowsy and relaxed. 

"Where have you seen the everyday stuff kill a relationship?" 

"My mom." 

"What about her?" The body in his arms curled a little sideways toward the left, a slight grunt for the effort. 

"She'd find somebody, be really in love and then the everyday stuff would happen and she'd get bored." 

Comprehension dawned. "So, you think since we already do a lot of everyday stuff, as you call it, that you're going to get bored and want to leave, too?" 

"No, not exactly." 

"Well, then explain it to me, partner, because I thought I had it figured out. Guess not." 

"I'm afraid you're going to get tired of taking care of me. You're the one who's going to get bored, not me. I love you, Jim. I love your voice, especially when you say Chief. I love your eyes when you laugh and your mouth when you're getting ready to drink a beer. I love the way you try so fucking hard to take care of me and the world and everyone, but yourself. Hell, I even love you when you're making up some stupidass house rule. No, Jim, I'm not going to get bored, it's just I can see the future here. The everyday stuff is going to ruin it." 

"Sounds like the everyday stuff is what's going to save it, Chief." His husky voice found his throat constricted. Hearing the list of how his guide loved him made his chest hurt. He pulled Blair in gently and kissed the top of his head. "I love everything about you, Chief. Everything. I even love how you make me crazy when you talk all the time and do silly shit just to pester and worry me. I can't help it. Even when you piss me off, I love you." 

"Gee, Jim, you're just a sweet talker." 

"Yeah, well, I told you I wasn't good at this stuff." 

"You're doing great. Keep on." Running his hand along Jim's belly, Blair snuggled tighter. "Tell me what else you love." 

Drawing a heated energy in through the body in his arms, Jim spoke with a quiet power. "I love the way you look for the best in people. I love the way you keep me honest, and make me face up to my fears. You're my guide and my soulmate, Chief. I don't know why it took me so long to figure it out, but now that I have, I'm not afraid to admit it." 

A hand played with a button nearest his heart. "I'm sorry for doubting that, Jim. It's just that I've never been so scared in my life." 

"Really? Not even on the cliff or when you were air-lifted by the helicopter?" 

"Those were scary things, too, but nothing like this. I feel like l'm standing on the edge of a cliff and there's only one way down." 

"Don't be afraid, Chief." Jim lifted Blair's face toward his and lowered his mouth to his guide's. Full lips parted and his tongue pushed forward into inviting heat, a sweet slickness that burned down his throat with a rich passion. A hand cupped behind his head and brought him closer, holding him against his future. 

Blair pulled back slightly, his blue eyes meeting Jim's. "Please, don't let me fall, Jim." 

"No way, Chief. Hold on tight. I've got you." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

As Blair nestled in closer, wrapping his arms around Jim's middle, the sentinel remembered the jungle cliff of his second awakening. In his own mind, the roar of cat behind him, the crash of waves in front, he no longer stood alone. Sentinel and guide now lived as one spirit, one soul, with one unique purpose and meaning. To guard the other saved the self, both spirits married to trust, bonded and complete. 

The End 


End file.
